


A Little More than Cannon Fodder

by thousandmonkeys



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 23:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thousandmonkeys/pseuds/thousandmonkeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie and Marco would've been the very best of friends. wouldn't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little More than Cannon Fodder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iggyzhong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggyzhong/gifts).



Someone considerate pushed the door open, a blast of frigid air whistling around the canteen to the grumbles of the eating cadets. One of the Karanese girls yelled for the newcomer to close the door, throwing a piece of undercooked potato at her.

The projectile fell to the floor with a rather sickening splat, prompting jeers. Blushing, the girl sat down to uproarious laughter, her friend patting her on the back and offering her another potato. It must’ve been deflected—not surprising, considering the intended target…

The clipped pace of the girl’s boots on cheap wood grew louder and a low voice rose above the din of the canteen.

“Is that seat taken?”

Marco turned around, mildly surprised at how fast she’d gotten here; for such a petite girl, the blonde sure walked fast. She jabbed a thumb at the vacant bench, his usual company notably absent.

“Ah, Annie. Hello. And no, no one’s sitting here.”

“Mm…” came the dispassionate reply.

Marco shifted, pulling his laden plate closer to him to clear some kind of space opposite. With a smooth movement, the blonde sat down, settling into her seat with all the grace of a deadly cat, devouring her meal like it was the only thing in the world.

Huh. So even Annie was feeling the aftereffects of the hike; she normally ate with measured bites, if campfire gossip said was anything to go by. There was a moment of awkward silence, and Marco pushed the stew around his plate; a quiet dinner table was truly a rarity.

He watched the steam rise from his food, watching the eddying currents float though the air. Seriously, how did they manage to bungle such a simple prank? Shardis was a creature of habit, and they’d memorized his schedule, so surely it wasn’t all that hard to get into this quarters during the man’s shower time—

“You could be ranked higher you know?” Annie said, rather unexpectedly.

Marco looked up in surprise, meeting the crystal blue eyes of the blonde. She must’ve been staring at him for sometime now, her meal lying half-forgotten, with the remains of mashed potatoes strewn around the plate.

Frowning, he shoveled a pile of stew into his mouth, talking around the stringy meat. “What brought this on?”

“Not much. Making conversation’s the decent thing to do, isn’t it?”

He nodded, swallowing the chunk painfully. “That’s true.” Still, when had the standoffish girl ever paid attention to manners?

“So?” She’d looked back down at her plate, fiddling with the spoon. The ever-present bored look hadn’t left her face. 

“Well, it’s not all that much trouble, you know?” He shrugged, nonchalant. “I’m still in the top 10, and that’s all I need.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Marco arched a brow at her, head tilted to a side. This was probably the first time the blonde has willingly spoken to him so much; he’d never seen her so talkative before, even with Mina, who seemed to be her only friend.

“Why do you let those weaker than you take your kills? You could be so much stronger, ranked so much higher…” The blonde’s voice hadn’t changed in tone, but there was the hint of frustration in her voice. She glanced up at him. “I don’t understand you, Bodt.” 

He leaned back, spoon held loosely in mid-air.

“Maybe because I feel like it? I mean: even if the instructors switch on the gears they don’t exactly fight back, so it’s…” he finally said after some consideration.

“It’s boring?” Incredulity had mixed with the frustration now, and a glance at her face proved her brows were furrowed. “This is just a game to you?” The blue eyes narrowed, the hint of danger entering them, and Marco fidgeted a little. Why was she getting so defensive? You would almost think he’d insulted her or something.

He shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. “Nah, not really.”

“Then?” she asked, voice tight.

Marco pursed his lips pulling up an ankle to rest on his foot. “Well, it’s not like the Military Police require graduating at the top of the class you know, and that’s my aim.”

The crease between Annie’s brows deepened and she leaned forward ever so slightly. “For Kirschstein then?”

“Jean’s pretty good on his own merits; if you didn’t notice, he’s actually ranked higher than me?.”

“Mm.” She shoved some peas around her plate, dissatisfied with the freckled boy’s answer. “And your other friends?”

Hands up in mock surrender, he leaned back, the bench creaking ever so softly at the strange angle. “Completely innocent in that.” After all, stealing kills did take skill, and if that meant the others could get some practice, it was perfectly alright.

“Humph.” Rolling her eyes, she stirred the soup with a spoon. The cold air has cooled it to a rather unappealing mess, strange lumps appearing in the already mysterious soup.

Marco’s lips turned up in a smile before growing serious, leaning forward to match her gaze. “I’m not the worst of them. Have you even seen Ymir?”

She twitched imperceptibly.

“For that matter, what about your own…” he waved his hands, the word escaping him. “…friend?” It seemed so alien to associate that word with the cold blonde.

“Mina can take care of herself,” she snapped.

Satisfied at how the situation was turning around, he seized the opportunity, pressing on. “She’s pretty good at teamwork, but there’s probably too many candidates for the Top 10.”

“…Why are you all…” she mumbled. Her voice was too low to catch, and the statement trailed off as she looked up with troubled eyes at the ceiling.

He leaned forward, angling a little to hear the girl better. The canteen was filled with the clattering of plates and bowls as dinner came to an end, the buzz of conversation winding down. “…What?”

“Nothing,” said Annie, pursing her lips.

Marco shrugged, dismissing it as one of Annie’s idiosyncrasies, focusing on the empty seat next to her instead. “Where is Mina anyways?”

The question seemed to amuse her, running through her voice as a bubble of laughter. “The same place where Jaeger and Kirschstein are; the kitchen. Those two aren’t the only foolhardy ones in the regiment.”

“The pepper prank? I didn’t know she was in it as well.” Looks like Jean had brought more people into the prank ring he masterminded; hopefully it wouldn’t grow too big…

“…You’re pretty good.” The sudden comment broke through his thoughts, and he looked up in surprise. A knowing smile was in the slight wrinkles areound her eyes, and he laughed; the girl must’ve found out about his involvement.

“Who, me? What did I do?” It wouldn’t do to give the game away so easily, after all, even if it was unlikely that the girl would sell him out to Shardis.

They lasped into a comfortable silence, and Marco took the opportunity to polish off the last of his meal, scraping the plate dry. Winter always saw a drop in servings, so dinner, where the portions weren’t moderated, were a welcome meal.

He frowned as a thought stuck him, waving a spoon at Annie to emphasise his point. “You know, I never really figured out why you call almost everybody by their last names.”

“I’m not going to bother to learn the full names of people that are just cannon fodder,” she said. Despite the harshness of the statement, there was no malice in her voice. She adjusted her sleeves, eyes never leaving the boy’s face. “There’s no more to that than that.”

“Even so…you’re the only one that calls me Bodt,” Marco said, tapping a spoon against the now-empty plate. “You don’t think I’m going to die, do you? After all, you are actually talking to me.”

“Shit happens.” Annie shrugged, pushing her own bowl away and starting on the remaining bread roll.

Marco waved a finger at Annie, mock admonishment in the gesture. “Don’t let Shardis catch you. He seems to think he’s got a monopoly on swearing.”

She thought for a second before finally answering. “…Fine. Marco then.”

Sincere satisfaction touched his lips. “Does this apply to Jean too?” he asked hopefully. “I mean, since we’re all going to be in the MP, surely you’re going to have to call him by his first name eventually.” 

“We’ll see to that.”

He laughed; this was more than the girl ever conceded. Pushing the bench back as he stood up, he started piling the cutleries onto a tray. “Anyways, thanks for the company Annie. We should go put the plates away before everyone hogs the sinks.”

Everything on her plate was scraped clean, yet Annie made no move to get up, staring at the glass of water before her. Resting a hand on her cheek, she looked back up. “You go ahead first, Bodt.”

“Marco, remember?”

“Marco.”


End file.
